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“Plus, we don’t want to cripple the state. We just want justice,” Liam added.
And justice we shall have.
“Thank you so much for agreeing to do this interview, Mr. and Mrs. Callahan. And for your work in aiding this country in foiling one of the biggest terrorist plots since 9/11. The world needs more people like you both.”
We smiled and nodded…some people were such idiots, they deserved to be lied to.
“And we’re off!” the producer called. “You all were brilliant, just brilliant, all we need is a few shots. This segment should air this evening.”
“Please send a finished copy to our lawyers as well.”
Liam added a ‘please,’ but there were no ifs, ands, or buts about it. Regardless of what many believed, there was a limit to the freedom of the press.
LIAM
Handing Ethan to my mother, I brushed through the small wisps of his hair. It felt as if years had gone by while dealing with the press. I just wanted a strong brandy and even more time with him and Mel.
“You both seem better,” my mother muttered with a frown while she bounced Ethan on her hip. The little bugger would not let go of my finger.
“And you still seem angry,” I replied, glancing over at Mel as she spoke to—more like commanded—Monte.
“She was gone for five months without a single word. Ethan—”
“And you were gone for twelve years, mother,” I reminded her. “Twelve very long years. You were right down the hall, only seventy-six steps away from me, yes, I counted back then, yet we barely saw each other. Five months is a not even of grain of sand compared the beach you have collected. Ethan will not remember. I love you so much, Ma, but this is not the fight you want to have because believe me, you will lose and you will lose badly. And I don’t want to ever hurt you like that, so please just let it go.”
Her eyes became wide as though I had just slapped her across the face. Her mouth dropped open, and she nodded with a sad smile on her lips.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, as she reached up to touch my cheek, “I know how much you suffered, and I couldn’t help you. But you’re right. You’re so right.”
Kissing her forehead, I stepped back when I heard heels clicking behind me. Mel said nothing, only moving to Ethan so she could hold him.
“Mommy has to go teach a few people a lesson, but I will be back,” she cooed. It was eerie how good she was with him, even when talking about potentially killing someone. “Evelyn, Olivia is getting more than attached, I trust that you can be civil enough to do as I ask and keep Ethan out of her reach?”
“Of course. Don’t worry, the little guy has an entire day of painting with grandma ahead of him.” She smiled before giving Mel a small hug.
Mel froze, glancing at me in confusion and annoyance.
Was it odd that I found it comforting that she still disliked being touched with the exception of Ethan and I?
“Thank you, Evelyn, now please release me.”
“Is the death machine out yet?” I asked her, referring to our “drug car.” It was nothing special, just a beat-up, old, black Chevy on its last leg of life. However, there was no chance for anyone to use global positioning system to track our locations when we used it, nor could they point out the fact that we’d even left the house. All the phones signals would be jammed the moment we got to our destination.
“Yes, we need to be going,” she said, but she didn't look ready to leave either. Nodding over to my mother I watched as she walked away.
“What did you say to her?” Mel demanded as soon as she was out of sight.
“About what?” I muttered, looking down at my phone.
“An hour ago she looked at me as if I were the anti-Christ, and now she’s giving me hugs.”
“Hot flashes? Hormones? All you women change your mind too often for me to keep track of,” I muttered, pretending to not feel her glare at me.
“I’m going to tell her about that hot flash comment,” she replied, as she walked towards the back door. Small forms of the press were still outside which meant that we had to go through the back.
“Since when did you become a snitch?”
“Around the same time I became a mother. One day Ethan will say something about me and I’ll want to know,” she said, as she opened the large mahogany door that led down to the marble steps and into the kitchen.
The kitchen staff pretended that we weren’t there as they moved around to get lunch prepared for the rest of the family. “So you’re joining the sisterhood of meddling moms now?”
“I drive.” She rolled her eyes, and oddly enough, Kain Fionn held the door open for us instead of Fedel. His face was still black and blue from her “lesson.”
“Nope.” I held my hand out for the keys and without a second thought, Kain handed them to me.
“Kain,” Mel sneered. “You’re new to our private detail and may very well end up back on the streets if you ever act without waiting for us to come to agreement. Are we understood?”
Poor bastard.
“Aye, ma’am.”
“Follow behind us,” I told him before getting in and putting the car into gear. Neither Mel nor I spoke as we drove. But in the corner of my eye I watched her as she watched me. The old Chevy trembled and it felt as though we were an old couple on the way back to the farm.
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
Flipping the radio on, I fiddled with the dial until I found the opera station, satisfied that I’d found what I was looking for, I listened to a woman weep mournfully. Sadly my Italian was still not as good as I had hoped it would be. Mel listened for a mere moment before shaking her head and turning it off.
“Excuse you?”
“You were enjoying The Duke of Milan?”
I didn’t even know it had a title. “Yes, it’s a classic,” I bluffed.
“Yes, it is, but it’s not opera, it’s a play being sung horribly. Besides, I’d rather not listen to another dysfunctional family.”
“We are not a dysfunctional family.” I mean every family had issues.
“Your brother’s wife wants to raise our son. The only reason I haven’t killed her is because her father is the President and we don’t need any more bad press. Seeing as you just got out of jail, and I just came out of—”
“I see your fucking point, jeez,” I muttered as I pulled in at a hotel that was no doubt at the pinnacle of opulence in the 1920s before it was abandoned. “But in our defense, it’s been an off year.”
“And last year?” she asked grabbing hold of her guns before stepping out.
“It’s been an off two years, but we’re making up for it now, aren’t we?” I replied, as I held the door open.
The hotel looked like something out of Stephen King’s dreams. Almost all of the windows were boarded up, leaving only a limited amount of natural light. There were dull lights illuminating the space, and the base of the hotel seemed to glow in a soft, yellow and orange hue. The men at the door nodded to us, and placed their guns down as we walked up what used to be a grand marble double staircase. Now almost all of its tiles were missing, and rats littered the area.
